


You Have One Message

by M_Moonshade



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, M/M, spoilers for Old Oak Doors Part B
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1877136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Moonshade/pseuds/M_Moonshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil listens to his voice mail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Have One Message

The smile was still stuck on Cecil’s face.

He’d been so excited. So thrilled. High on the rush of victory and conquest and reunion and--

And that had only been a few minutes ago, hadn’t it?

It felt longer.

It felt so much longer.

The voicemail was over, but he kept pressing the phone to his ear, waiting for Carlos to say ‘just kidding!’ or ‘April fools!’ or ‘no, seriously, can you pick me up from the house that doesn’t exist?’.

But he didn’t do that.

There was only silence.

The smile on Cecil’s face was a rictus, a skeleton of its former self, all bleached bone and straining muscle. He tasted salt on his lips.

Tears.

He was crying.

But he shouldn’t cry. Because Carlos wasn’t here to sit him down and make him tea. Carlos wasn’t here to hold him close and recite strange scientific facts until the world was too confusing to be sad. Carlos wasn’t here to make everything okay.

Carlos wasn’t here.

And maybe he wouldn’t be here ever again.

He was gone.

There was pain as lyme-disease-swollen knees crashed into the carpet-on-concrete floor. His phone clattered as it hit the ground--

No!

He scrambled after the device, pawing at it with shaking hands. No, he needed that phone. He needed that phone! If Carlos called-- if Carlos needed to reach him-- the phone needed to be on, it needed to be charged, it needed-- it needed-- it needed--

Cecil clutched it to his chest, breathing hard.

“Please,” he whispered. His voice was thin and reedy. “Please. Carlos, please. I need you.” It turned into a chant. A litany. An endless murmur that continued on long after the station lights went dark and the host’s voice lost all sound.

“I love you, Carlos. Come back to me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> It's short, it's sloppy, it's a reaction to the new episode. I hope you enjoy, or that you share in my angst. One or the other, really.


End file.
